


i cannot hear because of my dreams

by fshep



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Comeplay, Double Penetration, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fshep/pseuds/fshep
Summary: A return trip to Marukyuu Strip goes very wrong in just the right way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> thank you taylor for both enabling me & providing such a succinct summary  
> alternate title: the souji smash
> 
> i personally suggest listening to [the dungeon’s music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0rbdGvTpMwg) while you read :')

“I can’t decide which is worse,” Chie muses in a mutter, “this place or the Bathhouse.”

“Uh, the Bathhouse. Easily.” Yosuke shoots Kanji a semi-apologetic glance and receives a simple shrug of agreement in return. “We get sweaty after, like, ten steps. It’s hard to breathe and the shadows are just…” He makes a face.

Souji can handle all of that. The Strip Club, however, is one endless headache. Pulsating music, the heady scent of sex—it puts him on edge, makes him think about things he shouldn’t.

“Oh!” Rise chirps. “There’s a chest up ahead, guys. Room to your right.”

Things like a head of dyed hair between his thighs, a scuffle along the riverbank—a fight fought with less fists and more teeth—

“Wait, Sen—!”

A door slams shut behind him. He whirls around to blink uncomprehendingly at its existence. The dungeon’s primarily composed of drapery, so the change is... foreboding. He calls for Rise, alarmed when there’s no response even with Kanzeon at her disposal.

He turns back to assess his surroundings. It’s no different than what he's seen before: a small, low-rise stage, dead center. There's a pole installed in the middle.

But there’s no chest.

Unsettled, he takes a moment to consider his options. He doesn’t notice the swirling darkness beneath his feet until he finds that he can’t move them.

“What…?” The shadows, indistinct but unlikely to be anything else, coil around Souji’s ankles. He means to summon Izanagi and blast them back, but—they’re not just restraining him, they’re…

Pressure increases along his inner thighs. The shadows spread higher and higher, their consistency like warm, solid gel.

He’s horrified to realize that it’s getting him hard.

Still, he squirms, clenching his teeth together to bite back any sounds that build in his chest. He can’t hear his friends but that doesn’t necessarily mean they can’t hear _him_.

“Relax.”

His eyes widen. From behind, a hand slides up Souji’s back, underneath his uniform jacket. Fingers trace the knobs of his spine, and—that _voice_ —he’d recognize it anywhere.

It’s his own.

“You could get yourself out of a situation like this if you really wanted to,” his Shadow comments. “But you don’t.”

By now, Souji knows not to verbally deny anything that his Shadow says. Still, it’s strange; he’d thought that the existence of one’s Shadow deprived them of their respective Persona. Could it be that he's a special case, considering his capacity to summon multiple Personae? He entertains the possibility that this is all just a hallucination, but—the creatures groping and massaging at him feel too real (too _good_ ) to chalk it up as some fever dream.

His Shadow pulls his hand out of Souji’s shirt and wraps it around his neck instead.

“We’ve been frustrated. Too busy to pursue a relationship, too exhausted to jack off. And then _he_ drapes himself all over us—even has the nerve to do it that time we went to the beach with everybody else. Remember? He threw us over his shoulder because the water made us lighter, and he started laughing so hard we tipped over. Would’ve been easier to deal with if he hadn’t kept pawing at our waist.”

As if he could ever forget the feeling of Yosuke’s hands sliding all over his bare torso. The shadows mimic the memory and he resists the urge to close his eyes.

The grip at his throat tightens. “Is that what this is about, then?” Souji croaks.

“You’re starting to slip. You’re would up so _tight_ that it’s affecting your performance. How are you supposed to be Inaba’s Golden Boy—a proper _leader_ —when you doze off in class and take needless hits during battle? You’re getting snappy with your friends, and we both know you’d lose your fucking mind if any of them decide they've had enough.”

Souji hesitates. Then, he tips his chin up and exhales past the insistent vice.

“What do you suggest?”

Even though his Shadow steps away, he can _feel_  the way he grins. Suddenly, the lesser shadows evaporate, leaving Souji unsupported. He drops onto the ground.

“Why don’t we let _him_ decide?”

Souji blinks, lifting his hands up to kneel properly. He glances back to look at his Shadow properly for the first time, and—

It's his mirror image, of course, sans the glowing yellow eyes, but he’s standing next to—that’s—

“Yosuke,” he breathes.

“The one and only.” Yosuke’s Shadow beams back, something sinister in the curl of his lips. “Well. I guess I can’t say _only_.”

“How—he already—” His mind buzzes as he tries to piece together a possible explanation for what he’s seeing. The music makes it hard to think, a steady _thump-thump-thump_ overriding his capacity for sense. The only thing he knows with certainty is that Yosuke’s Shadow had heard what they’d just been talking about.

His own Shadow ignores his stuttering, adjusting his stance so that his weight’s shifted onto one foot with a hand in his pocket. “You’re going to let him do whatever he wants to do. Won’t it be nice to have someone else give the orders for a change?”

Souji says nothing; he doesn’t need to. Yosuke and his Shadow flank either side of him, grasping each arm, and drag him to the center of the room. He suspects they intend to make use of the small stage and his assumption proves true. They shove him onto it, following close behind.

The lesser shadows from before reappear, oozing from beneath Souji’s knees. They seep under his clothes, and it’s—he writhes at the sensation of it, damp and hot and slick. He anticipates when they prod at his entrance but he can’t stop himself from groaning as they dip inside, from spreading his legs wider to accommodate.

Yosuke kneels down and unfastens the front of his pants. Souji leans in without further prompting, one hand keeping himself supported as he plants it on the ground, the other reaching for Yosuke’s cock and giving it a few cursory strokes. He savors Yosuke’s hum of approval, craves it—so he doesn’t put up any resistance when Yosuke pushes his head into his lap.

It’s hard to focus on _anything_ , especially when Souji's Shadow takes over stretching him open. Not only is it familiar, but it’s _good_ , because there’s nobody who knows what he likes better than himself.

When his Shadow replaces his fingers with his cock, he doesn’t give Souji much time to adjust. It doesn't matter; he wants it so goddamn bad that arousal makes him _easy_.

The pace is fast, brutal—the force of it knocks him forward with each thrust, encouraging Yosuke to fuck into his mouth. He gags on it when Yosuke holds him in place but the rush that accompanies Yosuke’s groan is well worth it. His Shadow takes hold of Souji’s wrists and guides them behind his back with a firm grip, using that leverage as allowance to push in deeper, to lean over the back of him, and—

They’re kissing. The sound is indistinguishable and Souji feels inexplicably _jealous_ but he’s lucky enough to be sucking Yosuke off, he shouldn’t be selfish—

Souji’s counterpart digs his fingers into his hair and _twists_ , forcing him to tilt his chin up and dislodge from Yosuke’s dick. He pants softly, taking the brief respite to wet his lips and steady his breathing. Another hand sweeps up the side of Souji’s face—Yosuke’s. But when he gazes up at him, he’s looking contemplatively at Souji’s Shadow.

“What do you think, partner?”

 _Think about what…?_ Had they even spoken at all? Or was Souji too preoccupied to notice?

His Shadow thrusts hard and rolls his hips in a gradual motion, grinding against Souji’s prostate. He whines at the feeling, unwillingly hanging his head—or he would have, if not for the hold on his hair. Instead he stares at Yosuke’s uniform-clad thigh with glazed eyes and a slack jaw.

“He’s been good,” his Shadow decides, easing out of him. He removes his hand, too, and without anything keeping him upright Souji collapses forward into Yosuke’s lap.

The Shadows snicker at him. “Seriously? Rendered useless already? That’s pretty pathetic, Leader.”

It’s Yosuke’s voice. Souji’s cheeks burn in shame.

Yosuke moves to stand and takes Souji with him, arms hooked beneath his armpits. Their cajoling had filled him with determination to prove that he could at least stand on his own two feet, but even that’s difficult to manage. As soon as Yosuke takes a step away from him he wavers, hand lashing out to grab the pole and keep him from stumbling.

“Yeah,” his Shadow praises. “Stay like that.” Then he nods at Yosuke, who responds by stepping into Souji’s space and cupping his jaw. He kisses him, firm and unrelenting as he works his tongue inside. Picking up where he’d left off, his Shadow grabs Souji’s hips and pushes back in. “He’s been daydreaming about this for _months_ ,” he explains in a conversational lilt.

Yosuke hums, nipping at Souji’s lip and pulling away. He grins, wicked, when Souji makes to trail after him.

“Bet I could give him even better than that.”

He drops to his knees. Rendered speechless, Souji can only stare and desperately attempt to memorize what this looks like.

When he takes hold of Souji’s dick it’s difficult not to squirm. He’s been neglected, untouched; just a simple brush of skin is enough to set him off. He can’t even imagine what Yosuke’s warm mouth will feel like.

He doesn’t have to imagine. Yosuke parts his lips, allowing him to slip inside. His own Shadow has slowed his pace, buried in Souji's ass while he watches Yosuke, too.

“I know,” his Shadow murmurs in his ear. “He looks good. And he _likes_ doing it, too. I think that’s the best part.”

Slowly, he moves again. He deliberately matches Yosuke’s pace, pushing deep every time Yosuke takes Souji far back into his throat. Yosuke sucks and moans around his cock like he’s putting on some kind of show, grasping the base; the moment he begins to bob his head, quick and practiced, Souji’s body seizes up and he’s—he’s going to—

Yosuke retreats with a grin. “Ah, ah, ah. Not yet, partner.”

Souji whimpers. Even his Shadow takes the cue to pull out, leaving him to do nothing but grasp at the pole and endure full-body twitches while he attempts to gather his bearings.

Not bothering to draw himself up to his feet, Yosuke relocates to the edge of the small stage and swing his legs over the side. He lays down on his back and stretches, smirking up at Souji and his Shadow. “C’mere,” he beckons, meeting Souji’s eyes.

He obeys quickly, albeit shakily, and straddles Yosuke’s lap. It’s a little difficult with his pants only shoved down to the middle of his thighs, but he manages. They hadn’t told him to fix it, nor does he have any desire to completely expose himself regardless of the context.

Yosuke pushes his cock inside of him. It’s obviously different than his own Shadow’s; thicker, definitely, and Souji adjusts to it embarrassingly quickly.

“So fucking eager,” Yosuke taunts. There’s a note of fondness, or maybe Souji’s just hearing what he wants to hear—but then again, this entire _scenario_ is built off of his fantasies, so it’s not unlikely. “You like sitting on my dick?”

Souji nods, so dizzy with arousal he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He knows he should be moving now that he’s on top but his thighs are weak and Yosuke’s distracting him by palming at his cock. An undercurrent of stress thrums beneath his veins but before it can overtake him, his Shadow sidles up behind him. His tip nudges at the edge of Souji's rim.

It’s too much. Too much and _not enough_ , but the moment Souji realizes that he doesn’t have to think, doesn’t have to move, his body sags like a ragdoll. Yosuke supports him with a flat palm pressed to his stomach.

Below him, Yosuke rocks his hips in smooth, steady movements—he’s so fucking _deep_ —while his Shadow slides in from behind. Souji can feel the way their dicks drag together inside of him with each thrust.

When Yosuke starts stroking him, that's it. He tenses around the two of them and shudders so violently it’s surprising nobody gets dislodged. Cum splatters along the front of Yosuke’s jacket and the sight is so _dirty_ despite everything they’ve done that this is what makes the biggest impact, what he'll remember decades from now.

Yosuke and his Shadow haven’t finished yet and he knows he can handle getting fucked until they do—but Yosuke doesn’t seem satisfied with that, keeping his fingers tight around Souji’s length and twisting his wrist in a steady rhythm. It’s slick and wet but also a little painful and _way_ too goddamn much for him to manage. His eyes sting with tears and his panting gasps sound more like coughs; he parts his lips to say something but his Shadow shoves a few fingers into his mouth and presses them hard against his tongue.

“One more,” he says, and Souji can’t argue his own desires.

He isn't sure who spills inside of him first—maybe they even come together—but there’s so goddamn much of it that when his Shadow pulls out and Yosuke lifts Souji’s hips, he clenches on reflex to keep it from making a mess.

They guide him onto his back against the stage floor, with one hand around his throat and another on his dick. The second orgasm hits him so hard that he must black out for a moment, because when he opens his eyes the room is completely empty.

The club’s music hasn’t faltered. Slightly unnerved but unable to think through the incessant bass, he lifts himself up and unsteadily fixes his clothing. Despite the fact that he’s been drained of energy and his bangs stick uncomfortably to the sweat on his forehead, he feels… good. He’d be even better after a lengthy bath and a good twelve hours of sleep, but—

The door opens.

“Souji-kun!”

“Sensei!”

“Senpai!”

Every muscle is sore but he manages to keep himself upright out of sheer willpower as he turns to face his friend’s varying expressions of concern. He’d done whatever he could to compose himself within the short window of time he’d been given, but there’s not much he can do about the cum threatening to leak out of his ass.

The team halts a few feet away from him, anticipating a response.

“I’m alright.” As soon as the words leave his mouth he fights back a cringe. He sounds so _hoarse_. He clears his throat. “There was no chest. Just a few shadows, but I was able to deal with them on my own.”

Chie releases an anxious laugh. “Clearly. God, we were so _worried_. Both Rise-chan and Teddie said that they couldn’t communicate with you, but whatever you were up against, they were _strong_.”

A faint hint of fear nudges at Souji’s chest. That… can’t be right. They weren’t real. They couldn’t have been. Yosuke’d had Susano-O before they were separated and Izanagi’s presence hadn’t faltered once.

His thigh feels damp as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Dude, are you sure you’re alright? You look like you got some serious shit knocked out of you. We should head back,” Yosuke suggests, grabbing hold of Souji’s elbow so that he’s forced to meet his puppy-dog eyes, so full of concern. He’s close—closer than he has any right to be, considering. The proximity might’ve frustrated Souji, tempted him to lean in too and see how Yosuke feels about the way their breath mingles, if he hadn’t just spent an inordinate amount of time getting fucked by his other self.

“Yeah,” he says, “let’s call it a day.”

Yosuke looks at him, something unreadable in his gaze. He lingers after Souji uses a Goho-M to transport the team to the entrance of the strip club; even after they make it to the studio, Yosuke’s so close he manages to step on Souji’s heels once or twice.

Once they’ve all successfully exited the TV, there’s little else for everyone to do except head home. Fetch quests don’t contribute anything to the investigation, but Souji’s compelled to do them and it gives them all an opportunity to hone their abilities. They don’t _complain_ , but he’s aware of how tiring it can be.

Just as Souji decides he’s going to stop in Junes’ restroom to properly clean himself up (because he’d be hard-pressed to walk the entire way home like this), he notices that Yosuke’s still hanging around.

“Yosuke—”

“I’ll walk you home. You’re still looking pretty roughed up, y’know?”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” he says, exasperated. “Go on ahead. I have to use the bathroom, anyway.”

The stubborn idiot just shakes his head. “I’ll wait for you.”

Repressing a sigh of irritation, he embarks down the aisle that leads to the men’s bathroom. His skin prickles when Yosuke catches the door and follows him inside. But it’s alright. The stall’s right there, he just needs to—

Yosuke steps in with him.

“ _Yosuke_ ,” he says, exasperation coloring his words, “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Shut up,” he snaps back, sounding so much like his Shadow that Souji instinctively obeys. Immediately Yosuke looks down, chagrined. “Er, sorry. I just…”

Like he’s psyching himself up, he inhales and exhales before locking eyes with Souji. Slowly, cautiously, he bridges the gap between them with a feather-light kiss.

Souji stops breathing.

One kiss turns into two, maybe ten—and finally reality sinks in. This is Yosuke, the _real_ Yosuke, in his entirety, pressed along the length of Souji's body and sliding a tongue into his mouth. He clutches at Yosuke’s shirt and gasps when Yosuke reaches for the front of his pants.

“Missed a loop,” Yosuke mutters as he unfastens Souji’s belt. “S’not like you, partner.”

He means to respond but he finds that he has nothing to say. After Yosuke shoves at his slacks, he grips Souji’s waist and turns him around so that he’s forced to bracket his hands on the sticky surface of the bathroom stall.

_Wait. Why would he...?_

"Wait.”

Yosuke’s fingers move under his boxers and slide down the line of his ass. They slip inside of him with no resistance and Souji  _moans_.

“I knew it,” Yosuke whispers. “Holy shit. It really happened.”

Trepidation strikes, even as Yosuke pushes the cum around his hole back inside. “You saw,” he says, shuddering against the wall. He closes his eyes in mortification.

“No. I didn’t see anything. But it’s almost like… I was there. I remember it happening.” He sounds far away. Dazed. “God, Souji… I don’t know how the hell that’s possible, but I… I want it too, you know?”

He hadn’t thought he’d be able to get hard again, but if Yosuke keeps talking like that there just might be a chance. His forehead digs into the stall. “Do it.”

Yosuke presses his mouth to the back of Souji’s neck in a kiss that feels too sweet for the situation.

“Actually, um… You do look pretty beat. I think it’d be better if I really did just walk you home.”

Souji huffs a laugh. Figures that Yosuke’d still be a cocktease, even after everything. “You sure? It’d be easy to put it in.”

 “I-I _know_ , but I’m trying to take care of you, alright?”

Oh.

“Alright.” When Yosuke steps back, Souji turns around to examine the pink in his partner’s cheeks. He can’t help but kiss him then, slow and sweet, before pulling away with a smile. “Stay over at my place tonight.”

The walk to the Dojima residence isn’t what he’d call comfortable, but his company makes it worthwhile.


End file.
